


Left of Center

by Marked_by_moonlight



Series: Punisher Daemon AU [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, American Politics, Angry Frank Castle, Canon-Typical Violence, Daemons, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Harm to Children, Heavy Angst, Hurt Frank Castle, Marine Corps, POV Frank Castle, Shaky Hands, War, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 04:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20868023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marked_by_moonlight/pseuds/Marked_by_moonlight
Summary: His daemon hops gracefully to the tiled floor, her nails clicking softly at the contact. She looks like some sort of Hellhound from those myths his mother had liked to read to him as a child.Frank can feel his daemon’s stare burning into him. He cannot bear to look at her, to face the reality of what they are, of what they have always been.He swallows the lump in his throat and turns to face his daemon. They are both filled with a righteous sort of fury, an insatiable hunger to paint to world red. Frank Castle lets out a sob, and thinks of how the world has narrowed down to three bullets and the sound of carousel music.ORIn an alternate world, People's souls live on the outside of their bodies. This does not stop Frank Castle's family from being murdered. Frank and his daemon live in the aftermath.





	Left of Center

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I don't own the Punisher or Daredevil; Marvel does! Please don't sue me!
> 
> This was also written for Whumptober. 
> 
> Prompt #1: Shaky Hands

When Frank Castle wakes, the first thing he is aware of is pain. There is a hollow twisting in his belly, an aching unspeakable thing. An absence, an empty place beside him where his family should be. His legs are weighed down by Fae’s heavy body pressing against them. Her brown eyes gaze up at him, nearly covered by all her fur. She stands out against the white of the hospital sheet, her bright rust colored fur spilling out like waves.

His trigger finger taps restlessly against his leg. Frank tries desperately to ignore the shaking in his hands. 

“It won’t help. They’re gone, Frank. Our family is dead.” snarls Fae.

His daemon hops gracefully to the tiled floor, her nails clicking softly at the contact. She looks like some sort of Hellhound from those myths his mother had liked to read to him as a child.

Frank can feel his daemon’s stare burning into him. He cannot bear to look at her, to face the reality of what they are, of what they have always been.

He swallows the lump in his throat and turns to face his daemon. They are both filled with a righteous sort of fury, an insatiable hunger to paint to world red. Frank Castle lets out a sob, and thinks of how the world has narrowed down to three bullets and the sound of carousel music. 

The door to his room swings open, and a male nurse walks in with a clipboard. His daemon is a tiny little field mouse, one that can scurry along rafters in the Afghan desert. Frank knows, he sees what this man is capable of doing, his daemon displaying it for all to see.

His voice is hoarse when he speaks, and it startles the nurse. The clipboard clatters to the ground with a loud sound, and they both flinch.

The nurse apologizes and Frank motions for him to come closer. As soon as the man is in range, Frank lunges. His fist grabs a handful of the man’s hideous green scrubs and yanks him down close. He only has to say three words.

“Take me home.”

The nurse shuffles him out of the hospital an hour later with no one the wiser. The drive to his house is a short one. Frank snorts and thanks the man for smuggling him out of the hospital.

He slides out of the car smoothly, and opens the door for Fae. He is still in his hospital gown, his ass hanging out the back of it. The house still looks the same, and Frank half expects Maria and the kids to be inside opening Easter presents. Lisa had asked for a scooter, but they’d decided to hold off until Hanukkah.

Religion was a rather complicated topic in the Castle household. Maria’s family was catholic, and so when they’d had Lisa, Frank had aquisized. He didn’t really believe in all that bullshit anyway.

The spare key was still underneath the welcome mat. His normally steady hands won’t stop shaking as he fumbles with the key. He swears softly when he nearly drops it a second time. Tears cloud his vision, He cannot see straight. 

Somehow, Frank manages to get the door unlocked. Fae shoves her heavy body at his legs, pushing him inside. He can smell the scent of Maria’s perfume, still lingering in the air. 

He trudges up the stairs to their bedroom, swallowing thickly when he passes his childrens rooms. He lays his hand on Fae’s fur, taking comfort from his own soul projected outward. His hands refuse to stop shaking. They clumsily pull at the tie on the gown, and Frank opens the closet.

Lying in the bottom of his and Maria’s closet, is something Frank does not expect to see. The sight of it steals the breath from his lungs and makes him fall to the floor, boneless.

His children’s Easter baskets sit in the bottom of the closet, stuffed with bright green plastic grass. They aren't cheap, multicolored kind of baskets either. Frankie’s basket is a dark woven mahogany, while Lisa’s is some sort of pale tan color. 

On top of that fake, too bright grass, sits his children’s favorite candies. Pastel colored plastic eggs are nestled between the near overflowing amount of candy. Frank suspects that his wife had filled them with a few dollars and more candy.

His jaw quivers and Frank wipes roughly at his eyes. He reaches for the black shirt, boxers, and jeans that are folded neatly in the closet. Maria’s raccoon daemon, Martin, had likely helped with the folding. 

He could still feel the mix of warm blood and grainy dust that had coated his hands. Watching them die like that, it made something in him snap. Exhaling, Frank buried his face into Fae’s fur. 

They needed to put the monsters that had taken their family from them where they belonged. Frank felt something well up in him, a need for justice, or revenge. He wasn’t quite sure which was which anymore, but the feeling was there. It filled the empty place where the pieces of his shattered heart resided.

He’d kill them all. He’d make sure they wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again. He’d punish them for their deeds.


End file.
